Litter
by Quintessential Cacophony
Summary: Maggie Stiefvater posted an April's Fool's joke. A fourth book; Litter. The cover? A male and a female's shadows, with three small puppies underneath. Everyone assumes they are Sam and Grace's... but Sam and Grace aren't the only lovers in this series.
1. Our Finale

-Isabel-  
>It was the first time Cole had been in my house since I told him I was moving to California.<br>We sat on my couch, kissing ad holding one another – and it was better than I remembered. His hands rested on my hips as I threaded my fingers through his hair. Each kiss was longer and more passionate than the last; as if it were the last we would share.  
>Such activities didn't need to last long before I realized that I needed to have him in a more intimate manner. And this time, I hoped he wouldn't reject.<br>"Cole, let's go upstairs… to my room." I whispered. His vivid green eyes met my own, flushed with a glossy haze. Desire.  
>If I was a betting woman, I'd say that mine probably mirrored his own.<br>Standing, I grabbed his hand and half led, half dragged him up the stairs and through the doorway leading into my room, half kicking and half slamming it shut.  
>The moment that door clicked shut, Cole turned on. He turned, slamming me into the wall and, instantly, his lips met my neck.<br>Rolling my hips against his, my head lolled to the side as I let out perhaps the girlish sigh I had ever even heard in all of my years of life. It was sort of embarrassing, but then I remembered – that was probably the last thing on Cole's mind. At the feel of my hips sliding against his, he let out a breathy groan that heated my skin underneath his lips as his teeth skimmed the edge of my collarbone, searching for a specific spot.  
>Cole's lips came to rest at the crook of my neck, in the soft hollow where my collarbone met my throat. Tilting his head forward, I could feel a soft pinch as he took my skin between his teeth and nibbled, sucking the sensitive, heated flesh and running his tongue over it.<br>I threw my head back (which was a bad idea on my part, since the slam that came from it colliding with the door almost startled us both into stopping) – and groaned, a sharp intake of breath that chilled the nerves of my teeth.  
>I was almost so distracted by where his lips were that I nearly forgot about where his hands had been going this entire time.<br>Calloused from years of doing God-knows-what, his fingers brushed every inch of my skin, igniting it. His hands roamed my body freely, running down my shoulder blades, sliding past the small of my back, settling on my stomach and inner thigh – you name it.  
>I had a feeling that he was no longer holding back, and I couldn't wait for him to really let it loose.<p>

-Cole-  
>Half of me couldn't believe this was really, actually and truly happening, and the other half was too busy ravaging Isabel to really notice its counterpart.<br>I vaguely thought of every girl I had ever been with and all of the emotions that followed – and none of them could even compare to right here, right now, with Isabel. (And we weren't even in bed yet!)  
>She's barely doing anything (other than arching her back to lean into me and rolling her hips in such a way I thought I'd nearly explode), and she's making me feel unlike any other experience I'd had. (And I've had a lot of experiences.)<br>My fuzzy, light-headed brain managed to register the feeling, however, of her delicate hand sliding down my abdomen and to my jeans, toying with the zipper. Between the kisses and marks I left on her collarbone and throat; I sucked in a breath, pulling back in the slightest to take everything in.  
>Her long, perfectly tanned legs – tantalizingly short shorts, flat stomach – hidden beneath a pesky tank top that was bunched and rolled up as she slid against my own abdomen – and the tiny bit of black lace that peeked from the top of her now lopsided shirt.<br>I knew exactly what was under there.  
>To be honest, I didn't realize I was staring and fantasizing about her bra (and what lay beneath) until she hastily pulled off her own shirt, and then reached for mine.<p>

I sort of just… stared. A lot.  
>"See something you like, Cole St. Clair?" Came a breathy chuckle.<br>I nodded fast, just as she pushed me onto the bed and quickly rid me of my jeans – revealing the problem I was having _down there. _She smirked, and I could bet a thousand dollars she was checking me out almost as much as I was her – but she would never admit it. Straddling my waist, she began to move our lips together once more, biting and even chewing on my lower. I happily obligued and brushed my fingers up her thighs, digging them into the junction of where they met her hip. She moaned softly, her breath warm against my lips as she pulled away to pant – and to slide her hands down my bare chest. Her fingers detoured only to brush across my nipples before they made their way down to the hem of my boxers – right underneath my bellybutton. She traced the sparse dusting of hair on my naval and I couldn't help the fact my breath caught halfway up my throat. She must've heard it, because I heard her laugh breathlessly, winded. In response – or revenge, really – I leaned forward, craning my neck to run my canines across her collarbone, sucking and nibbling on her heated flesh as I left a trail of dark-purple welts.  
>"Cole." She breathed, her breath husky.<br>I smiled big and continued on my attack. Over the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, I could make out Isabel's – racing behind the very chest I was exploring. I carefully outlined her bra with my lips, leaving little red-and-blue marks here and there. I was so busy with my attack, in fact, that I hadn't even noticed Isabel's hands carefully snaking down my boxers – pulling them far down enough that I could shimmy them off without much of an issue. So, I did as she planned – and felt the fabric fall to a pool at my ankles. I could feel her soft, delicate hands grasp the base of my shaft and bit my lip to hold back a soft whine of surprise. An explosion of heat pooled between my thighs as she slowly stroked up and down, unsure. But perhaps it was her awkwardness that was a turn on – the fact that I, Cole St. Clair, was Isabel Culpeper's first. Her novice in this subject granted me almost complete power over her – something I knew I was going to enjoy immensely.  
>I knew that, as it was her first time, I should go slow and show her just how to touch a man in all the right places – all the right places that would have him writhing under her touch. I knew it was up to me to show her how to take care of herself. But, to be honest, I was never a patient man. Nor was I the best teacher. So it wasn't long before I had our positions switched, and I settled atop of her – my hips between her thighs as I ghosted my lips across each pebbling nipple. Her hands had long since found their way to my head, her fingernails digging into my scalp as I twirled my tongue across each hardened bud – careful to give just the right amount of attention to each side.<br>But I was a man, and there was no way she or I could deny my own needs. It wasn't long before one of my hands slid down her side, pulling at the hem of her panties. That last, thin, torturous piece of fabric that covered Isabel's most private part – the part that I wanted to devour and ravage.  
>Isabel groaned, gasping for breath. "Cole!" she hissed between gritted teeth. I took this as a good reaction, before tearing off the panties. I thought I heard the tear of fabric, but I really just hoped that they were down to her knees now. And, hopefully, not ripped. Because the last thing I needed was to have her up my ass about that later.<br>I lifted my head to trace my lips up her jawline, settling my chin on her shoulder so that my lips pressed once against the lobe of her ear.  
>"I'll go slow." I promised.<br>"Don't you dare…" she half growled, half whimpered in response.  
>"Aren't you a virgin?" I asked, suddenly curious as I found her hips grinding up into mine, desperately seeking some sort of release.<br>"I don't care! Do it!" she snapped, her voice high pitched.  
>"No need to be so demanding." I paused, and, on second thought, added; "But I'll admit, it is sort of a turn on."<br>"_Cole_." She half snarled, her lust-glazed eyes sparking with irritation at my procrastination.  
>"<em>Hmm~ <em>Isabel, Isabel, Isabel…" I murmered teasingly as I rubbed small circles into her hips, pushing down hard – I heard another round of maons from beneath me.  
>"C…Cole…" she gasped.<br>"Yes?" I smiled innocently, my voice feigning disinterest as best I could.  
>"Fuck me, now!"<br>Well, she didn't need to tell me twice. I smiled, spreading her legs with careful hands as I aligned myself. Lurching forward, I slammed into her. A heavy gasp followed by a series of pained whimpers followed in suit as I attempted to pull out – but she stopped me by digging her finely manicured nails into my shoulder blades.  
>"Don't stop, Cole." Her voice seemed strained.<br>I moved slower at first, careful as I gave her time to adjust to my size and the sensation of being filled. But, at her command, I began to speed up. Soon enough, I was thrusting into her as fast as I could, grunting as the sound of my body colliding with hers set the beat for our chorus of heavy moans and sharp gasps for breath. She wrapped her legs around my waist, hooking her ankles together as I rocked with her body beneath me. I then grasped behind her upper thigh, hoisting her into an angle that had her screaming.  
>"Cole! God, Cole! Right there!" she groaned, gasping sharply as she raked her nails down my back. But, at this point, I didn't even notice that pain.<br>God, was she a fucking turn on.  
>I moved harder and impossibly deeper as I felt myself swell – or maybe that was her own walls, tightening around me. A few more thrusts and that did her in. She finished hard, her body going rigid as she mumbled my name, her voice wavering. We were a panting, sweating heap as she climbed to get atop of me and began to move up and down, grinding on me hard.<br>"Isabel!" I yelped. Whoa, wait, what? I _yelped_? No, that doesn't happen. Ever. I'm Cole St. Fucking Clair. I don't _yelp. _But Isabel was doing this incredible thing on top of me where she moved in this tight circle around me that I just – _ugh! _I fucking couldn't take it. She pushed herself harder on top of me, riding like an expert as she leaned forward to drag her lips across my own collarbone, sinking her teeth into my skin.  
>That was it.<br>I gripped her hips with firm fingers as I finished, an explosive warmth surging through my veins as something snapped inside my lower gut. I could feel myself empty into her as she collapsed onto my chest, panting heavily. I slowly rolled her off of me (and was rewarded with a surprising amount of wetness dripping onto my boys) as I scotched to hold her in my arms, kissing her cheek and running my fingers through her messy, sweaty hair. Her brilliant blue eyes glowing as she stared into my green. She leaned on my chest, using it as leverage to sit up and kiss me – hard. I wrapped my arms around her waist and mumbled into the kiss; "Round two?" with a throaty chuckle.  
>She smiled against my lips but tiredly shook her head. "I can't handle that… not again." She huffed, her voice trembling as she basked in the afterglow. "But thank you."<br>"For that earth-shattering orgasm you just had? You're welcome." I chuckled.  
>She rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. "For taking my virginity in the best, and possibly sexiest, way possible."<br>"And thank you for giving me the chance to." I retorted, leaning back against the headboard. Something burned on my shoulder blades and lower back. Fuck, I could only imagine how many scratches I must've had from her nails.  
>"Maybe I <em>am <em>up for another go…" she grinned, leaning forward to press our lips together once more.  
>"I'll make this time even better." I promised smugly, laughing softly.<br>"Is that even possible?" She all but gasped – probably teasingly, though.  
>Craning my neck down to press our foreheads together.<br>"Watch who you're talking to, babe."

-Isabel-

That cocky bastard.  
>Okay, well, maybe I'm being too harsh. He definitely is the sex God he makes himself out to be. As weird and out of place this may sound, I'm glad Cole was the one to take my virginity. I can say, with full confidence, that no other guy could make me feel like Cole just did and continues to do so. I've never slept with any other guy, but I've gotten far and no one sent ecstasy coursing through my veins particularly like Cole St. Clair did. I wished I wasn't leaving, especially now. Better get this in while I can, though.<br>He promised to make it better, and he did.  
>He kissed agonizingly slowly, down my body and dangerously close to a very, very sensitive spot – even just his hot breath was sending shivers of pleasure up my spine. He pulled away, though, and murmered. "We'll save that for another day."<br>"Who says you'll get this lucky again?" I sass, or pout, actually.  
>"Don't kid yourself, Isabel Culpeper, you'll want this again." He forced himself back up to run his tongue across my lower lip lightly.<br>He was right. I did want him. I wanted him now, and forever.

-Cole-

Let's just say, by the end of the night, the sheets were wet with some things that may or may not have been solely sweat – and Isabel and I might've "caught a cold" and our throats were a little too scratchy for normal.

But with her curled between me and the wall, her head resting against my chest and legs tangled with my own. (Girls legs are surprisingly smooth, too. Or maybe that's just because I'm a hairy beast of a man.) I couldn't help but to bask in the afterglow of it all. The orgasms, the feeling of closeness, and even just being connected to Isabel.  
>"Isabel… where does this leave us?" I murmured, curious.<br>She made a strange sound of half-response, and I repeated my question. "Fuck buddies?"  
>She shrugged. "Won't be much of that when I leave." She paused. "And I don't want you thinking of this like that… you're more important to me than just that." She smiled softly, her eyes fluttering shut once more.<br>We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, before Isabel spoke again.  
>"Cole?"<br>I _hmm-d _awareness, waiting for her to speak as I leaned forward and exhaled deeply.  
>"we forgot a condom." She stated.<br>Leave it to Isabel to be the logical one during and after something like this. Really? _That, _of all things? Pathetic.  
>"Feels better without one." I shrugged with a half-grunt of amusement.<br>She nodded, too tired to argue, and curled up against the groove of my body once more.


	2. Tell The Truth, Cole

-Cole-

Ace. King. Seven. Two. Jack. Three. Six.

I stopped, gazing idly at the card held between my forefinger and thumb before allowing my line of sight to drop between my thighs, at the house of cards I had been constructing for the past hour or so.

Six.

The number of days since Isabel had left.  
>The number of days that I'd constantly thought about her.<p>

It was sort of sick, really. No matter what I did, I always ended up back on her. Making a grilled cheese? Isabel mocking my cooking skills ghosted the back of my mind. Folding socks? Isabel complaining that I left my clothes everywhere echoing in my ears. The thought of her was like a fucking disease; and I was getting sick of it.

But, at the same time, I sort of liked it. In a sick sense, almost. If I couldn't have her here with me physically – at least I had the memories of her.

I vaguely heard someone open and close the front door, but I didn't bother to look up as Sam crossed the room with a long, purposeful stride, as if he was getting ready to jump straight over me and my pathetic card-house and dive-bomb into the kitchen. Knowing him, that probably _was _his plan. Especially since we had left-overs from the pasta Grace had made last night.

But, contrary to what I believed he was going to do, he instead stopped a pace before me and looked down. I could hear the smugness in his voice as he spoke, his words slow and careful – each word weighted.

"Missing Isabel?"

_Yes. _"No." I responded, glancing up at him and crumpling the flimsy card in a tight fist.

"Really? Any other reason you've been ridiculously quiet since she's left?" It wasn't a question – not with that tone. Sam knew he had me. He wasn't the kind of guy to twist me. He wasn't a sadist. But the satisfaction of my discomfort definitely urged him forward.  
>"Are you <em>complaining<em>, Sam? Would you rather that I muck up some trouble again?" I hissed – an empty threat.

Sam laughed. A loud, sharp bark that rumbled in the back of his throat. It reminded me of Beck, in the short time I knew him. I don't know why.

"Not at all." He answered, making his way past me and into the kitchen – but not before adding;  
>"Expect a different answer from Grace, though."<p>

I stood and, leaving my card house to the mercy of whoever was next to cross the room, made my way up the stairs. Turning once, I headed for my bedroom – or, really, Beck's old room – and shut the door firmly behind me as I slammed myself face-first into the comforter on my – Beck's – bed. I inhaled deeply, enjoying the familiar scent of, well, _myself _before flipping onto my back to stare at the ceiling.

As much as I hated to admit it, Ringo was right.

I did miss Isabel.

I couldn't help it, though. She was the only girl who had ever had the balls to show me up. The audacity to back-sass me and show me I was wrong before I could even think I was right.

The only girl who ever bothered to tell me exactly what she thought of me.

And, as much as it might've annoyed me at the time – I liked the challenge. Sam and Grace never bothered to do that. They only rolled their eyes at me and went on with their lives. I went without an oppose, and that was boring.

Isabel brought some sort of spice into my life. An opponent. Someone of equal status to bicker incessantly with.

It took me few moments of processing to realize there was someone knocking on my door, rapping the wood beneath their knuckles repeatedly. As if they had been doing it for some time without a reaction.

"Come in, Grace."

-Grace-

I wasn't a fan of being in Cole's room. For one, it smelled like sweaty socks and moldy pizza. For another, it was Beck's old room. I felt like I was intruding a personal ground being in here. Despite the fact Beck had a new home in a forest far, far away.

"Sam tells me you're being difficult, Cole St. Clair." I pursed my lips, quirking a brow at the larger young man laying before me.

"When _aren't _I being difficult?" He sneered, fitting me with a playful glare.

I couldn't help but to smile, before I remembered where I was going with this.

"So I talked to Isabel this morning." I began as innocently as I could.

Cole's leer faltered at the sound of her name. "Really?" he attempted to feign innocence and disinterest, but he must've known that that look he gave me pretty much guaranteed I had caught him. And I had him, right where I wanted him.

"Yeah. We were discussing plans for when she comes to visit. 'Yanno, for my Graduation and all that." I shrugged, leaning against the door's frame as I watched Cole's expression flicker from happiness, to surprise, to light confusion.

"So, is she coming? How long is she staying?" He sat him, bracing his weight on the palms of his hands as he attempted to pass his questions off as polite conversation.

"Yeah, she's coming. She might stay a week, maybe a little more, depends on what her parents say." I tossed out there.

Cole nodded, as if thoughtful. It took a few moments, but when his gaze met mine again, I sort of just… let it out.

"She misses you, you know."

He sighed, but said nothing. For a moment, he opened his mouth – as if he was going to respond – but it closed again and he was gone. His eyes devoid of any attachment. Cole was off again, thinking of God-knows-what in that mind of his.

I softly clicked the door shut behind me as I backed out of his room.

Downstairs, I could hear the clinking and clanking of Sam probably attempting to heat up my sauce on the stove. The dying light of the sun flittered through the windows, casting golden hues on everything in the house. Outside, both mine and Sam's cars sat, sleeping, in the driveway. With the lawn cut and some flower pots in place around the walk way, the house had a more friendly feel to it than when Sam and I had first taken up residence in here.

It had a more… home-y feel.

But that didn't change the fact that, in the backyard, the Golden Woods held horrible, snowy secrets.

I was only grateful that it was summer, and the temperatures wouldn't drop past seventy degrees.

For now.


	3. Long Time, No Talk

-Isabel-

As I dialed the phone to call Grace, my mind wandered back to Cole – as it had a habit of doing lately.

I hadn't talked to him since about a week after I'd moved back to California. And even then, it was a casual hello-how are you-here's Grace-bye routine. I couldn't help but to miss him. And even wonder why he had brushed me off so fast. Was he really not in love with me? Did he have a new girlfriend? I doubted the latter for sure. But the sudden click of the phone by my ear roused me from my thoughts.

"Da?" Oh, boy. Life and it's irony.  
>"Hey, Cole."<br>I could hear a soft inhale through the phone. "Isabel? How're you?" He asked, feigning polite interest with that noticeable crick in his voice – the one he always got when he had something else on his mind and would rather switch topics.  
>"I'm good, I guess." I bit my lip, running my tongue along the cracked surface. I shouldn't be lying to Cole like that. Especially about this. But I couldn't tell him. Not yet.<br>"Sounds good, sounds good." He half mumbled, sounding uninterested on the other end. I inhaled as I spoke. "How about you?"  
>I could picture him shrugging, even from so many miles away – the image was strong and clear in my head. "Hangin' in, I guess. Shit's boring around here without you. Sam and Grace are okay, I guess. But they're normally so wound up in each other that I don't do much but eat all their food and watch TV." I could hear him sigh, like a pouting child.<br>Despite myself, I chuckled. "Don't feel bad. It's boring here, too."  
>Cole feigned a gasp of surprise. "Isabel Rosemary Culpeper, I'm shocked! I figure'd you'd be raising hell out there. What happened to daisy dukes with bikinis on top?"<br>I rolled my eyes. "That's only in Katy Perry's world. Besides, I'm only like that around you. All other times I'm just a bitch."  
>I could hear him laugh, a deep-throated bark. "I'm honored. No one else can light your fire just the way I do, huh? I'm actually pretty surprised, Ms. Culpeper.<br>I laughed in return, but it was true. Around Cole, I was much more rebellious and feisty than I normally was. It was almost as if he and I were in competition – and I had to keep up with the little bastard.  
>"Well, I guess my life is complete then." He started, inhaling before he continued – "So, you got yourself a boy-toy yet? It is the sunshine state. Sex on the beach and whatnot." He drawled, almost nervously. I couldn't help but to find it the least bit cute.<br>"Nah. They're all gay, anyway. How bout' you, girlfriend?" I returned as casually as I could.  
>"Nah, I'm a lone wolf." We both laughed at that dumb pun.<br>"Anyway, is Grace there? I had something I wanted to ask her about."  
>Cole paused, before speaking into the phone; "Hold up, I'll go check."<p>

I heard the phone hit the counter on the other side. I mused that Cole was currently running all around the house in an attempt to find Grace. I myself would check Sam's room, first, since – according to Cole – that's where Grace spent most of her time. Which surprised me. Sweet, innocent little Grace - doing such nasty things with Sam? I guess hormones really do kick in around the college years. A little voice in the back of my head brought up the thought that love does these things, too, but I quickly pushed it back into its cobweb-covered corner and draped a curtain over it. No need thinking like that. We're too young to know love. Not yet.

But then again, I've been trying to tell myself that since I met him.

Suddenly, the phone clicked back on and the volume returned to life. "Not here." Cole panted into the receiver. Idiot probably just finished running all up and down every staircase in the house looking.  
>I shrugged habitually, "Alright. Tell her I called, alright? I'll try her cell, I guess." I sighed.<br>Cole made a general sound of _'yes' _before actually speaking.

"Alright. I'll see you then, I guess. But you really should call more often. If I have to go through another night of Sam and Graces combined moaning on my own I'm going to gauge out my eyes with a spoon." I could hear the jealousy and even the friendly rivalry for his newfound male friend in his tone of voice.

I laughed, curling the phone's cord around my index finger as I caught my breath. "Alright, I will. Try to hang in there, Cole St. Clair."

At the sound of the phone hanging up, I sighed and leaned against the counter, placing the phone back onto its wall-hanger with a soft click. I rested one arm beneath my breasts, across my abdomen, the other hand rubbing my temples.

Where was Grace when you needed her?

-Cole-

After hanging up the phone and tossing it onto the couch, I myself crashed in one of the recliner chairs situated around the television and clicked it on – flipping through channels with little to no interest.

Isabel sounded so different over the phone. Her usual sarcasm and general sense of '_I'm better than you because I'm Isabel Culpeper' _was toned down. Or maybe that's just because she was talking to me.

I had to stop thinking like that! Isabel didn't like me like that. She was just a hormonal girl with a puppy crush who needed to get it in to keep herself under control. I would know that best of anyone – with my history.

But I couldn't help but to hope that that's why she always referred to me so differently than when she spoke to – or of – others.

I wonder if she noticed any weird things in me?

I don't _think _I behave that differently around her. At least, not that I can tell. But maybe I couldn't tell. Maybe I should ask Sam? Nah. That's dumb. He'd think I was being paranoid. And then he'd hold it over my head.

Okay, so he wouldn't. Ringo's not like that. But still. I didn't need him telling Grace. She'd get all bubbly and cutesy over it like all girls do when they talk about their crushes or their friends crushes.

Or boyfriends.

Or whatever the hell our relationships could be called after all of this.

I sighed, lolling my head back against the couch cushion as I allowed the channel to stay on whatever it was currently set to – the volume, despite being loud, didn't even register with me.

The outside environment was the last thing I was currently focusing on.

Especially after that call.


	4. Date Night

-Sam-

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I observed the downstairs library's transformation. Several candles covered the expansive surface of the coffee table, a vase of roses in their midst. The case of several movies – Grace's favorites – were stacked atop the television, waiting to be watched. I nodded, preparing the mental checklist in my head just as I heard a door slam somewhere above me and a feminine voice call out my name.

"Coming!" I shouted back, turning to the stairs – almost knocking a candle over in the process – before hopping up the steps two at a time and landing at the top. I left the door behind me cracked, but closed it enough so that if you passed by you wouldn't be able to tell what was down there.

"Hey, Sam." Grace greeted, smiling at me from the kitchen table, where she was finishing unpacking groceries.

"Hey yourself." I chuckled breathlessly, padding forward in my socked feet to peck her lips. "Need help?"

"Nah, I'm pretty much done, anyway." She shrugged as she dumped the plastic bags into the hamper we had converted into a recycling bin. "What're you doing down there, all by yourself, that could possibly make you as red-faced and breathless as you are now?" She quirked a brow, smirking at me with a teasing pout.

"Glad you asked. Mind coming down to look?" I answered, tossing the same smug look right back at her. She rolled her eyes, entwining our fingers and allowing me to lead her to the top of the stairs. I opened the door, bowing aside. "Ladies first."

She giggled softly, before hopping onto the first step and making her way down. Close behind her, I closed the door behind us with a soft click. By the time I had reached the last step, I ended up with two arms full of Grace.

She laughed into my chest, standing back up to kiss my nose. "Movies and candlelight, Sam? Taking some lessons in romance, Mr. Roses?" She teased, but from the pink flush on her face and her ear-to-ear grin, I could tell she liked it.

I laughed, returning the grin. "For you, I'd even watch Titanic."

Grace feigned a gasp, covering her mouth with the fingers of her left hand. "A true, noble gentlemen!"

I laughed, steering her toward the couch and sitting her down as I leaned forward to take the movie from its case and pop it into the dvd player. I plucked the remote from the coffee table and leaned back, only to find myself being used as a human pillow by Grace. Not that I minded much. After all, at least I got the remote so I wouldn't have to get up.

Hitting the play button resulted in hitting Grace's mute button. The moment the movie began rolling, Grace was absorbed into it. I watched, albeit a bit lazily as I dozed in and out. Grace was a good movie watcher (unlike Cole, who talked and screamed at the characters on screen). She only disrupted me when Jack was drawing Rose naked – covering my eyes and telling me that she'd explain to me when I'm older. I chuckled under the hushed air that the basement suddenly held, containing our in-home movie theater.

It's not that I didn't like the movie… it's just that it wasn't entertaining. If I had told Grace that, she would've blamed it on my gender. But I guess it's true – if even Grace liked it, it must've been an unspoken law for girls.

The sudden stabbing of elbows in my ribs woke me from my haze as Grace pointed to the screen, where the ship was sinking. I rolled my eyes, about to comment before I looked down to see Grace watching the television with wide, glossy eyes.

_Oh god. Please don't cry._

We'd watched the movie before – with Cole, of course – and she never even seemed remotely upset. But maybe that was because during this part, Cole was screaming random military slogans and pirate mottos. I held her a bit tighter, trying to focus my line of vision on the screen.

"All those people, Sam… I can't imagine how that must've been." She whispered.

"You don't have to." I murmured, resting my chin atop her head. She nodded sharply, but I could tell she wasn't yet convinced.

Watching people die in a fake movie didn't bother me much. Probably because I knew it was fake and I knew the circumstances would probably never again happen in real life – or, at least, to me. (Ironic, considering I'm a werewolf and, by evolutionary standards, not supposed to exist.) But when the old couple returned to their room, holding each other on their bed as the room slowly flooded with water, I couldn't help but to feel this odd… lump in my throat. I squeezed Grace a little tighter to my chest.

"Sam, we're 'gonna grow old together, right?" I heard a tiny whisper from somewhere below my jawline.

"Of course." I promised. "We're 'gonna get married, and maybe have a few miniature versions of us running around, and watch them grow up to have their own puppies, and get old and senile together." I teased, adopting our new slang term for if any of us either reproduced (Cole, Grace, or I, that is.) – puppies. So funny, right? Ba dum tss.

"I love you, Sam." She whispered several moments after the end of my lame speech. I _hmm_-ed happily, pecking the crown of her head with my lips as she pressed close and nuzzled her face into the crook of my neck, peeking out just enough to watch the end of the movie.

All of a sudden, Grace practically ripped herself from my grasp and held her hands out, groping for mine. Confused, I stood and offered them to her – she entwined our fingers and began to sway back and forth, dancing and pulling me with her.

Neither of us were particularly good dancers, but to our credit – we tried. I might've stepped on her foot once or twice and she might've stepped on her own several more, but all in all, it wasn't that bad.

"You're 'gonna have to dance at our wedding, 'yanno." She commented drily, insulting me with a gush of affection. "But a little practice should help you lots."

"Or a lot." I laughed. But at the suggestion of our wedding, I couldn't help but to feel a bit… anxious? But not in a bad way. A good kind of anxious. Strange and fleeting, a gentle flutter. She giggled, drawing me out of my daydream as I tripped over my own foot – I could only imagine what shade of red my face was.

She leaned forward, resting her head on my chest. I wrapped my arms around her waist as the two of us turned in a slow circle, Grace humming along to the ending music softly – under her breath.

Blinking heavily, I smiled to myself – a gentle, content sigh stealing its way from between my lips as we stayed like that for quite some time.

Honestly, I can't say I wasn't disappointed when Cole called from the top of the stairs, shouting something about Grace having an 'urgent phonecall from Isabel'.

How unromantic can you get, when Cole and slash or Isabel are involved?

Date-ruiners, those two are, I swear.


	5. Phonecall

**Author's Note: **_Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all the reviews. I really appreciate it! I'm sorry this chapter has a random filler-part, but the plotline-planned part was so short and you've all been waiting so long that I didn't want to leave you guys hanging! I hope you enjoy, regardless, though! _

-Grace-

I made my way up the stairs, approaching Cole with a bit of a scowl on my face. He flashed a grin back at me and handed me the phone, turning to make his way back to the kitchen. Down the stairs, I could hear Sam rewinding the movie as he straightened up.

"Hello?"  
>"Hey, Grace." Isabel responded, she sounded relieved.<br>"Whatsup?"  
>"Your graduation is next week, right?"<br>"Yeah, next Friday." I responded, leaning against the wall.  
>"I'm so excited to come back. California sucks. Hey, do you think Sam would mind me hangin' around a bit longer than your graduation?"<br>I shrugged, glancing downstairs at where Sam was. "I doubt he'd mind. Any particular reason why you ask?" I could tell something was up – this entire conversation had been rather one-sided up until this point. It was almost as if Isabel was hiding something from me; but I couldn't put my finger on what.

I could hear a pause on the other side of the phone, as if she was thinking. "I'm just so sick of it here. I miss you guys. Even Cole, surprisingly." She offered a half-assed laugh, which I returned.  
>"You're welcome to stay as long as you want, you know that."<br>"Good. But, uh, speaking of Cole, part of the reason I… have to stay is for… or by… him?"  
>At this, I switched the phone to my other ear as I made my way up the stairs to the bedroom level. "What? Why?"<br>"I… uh…" She swallowed. "Grace, I think I'm… pregnant." She finished in a half whisper, as if she was being watched. I could almost see her leaning over, whispering into the phone, glancing over her shoulder in a paranoid fashion.

Although, it did take me a minute to process what she had said exactly.

"Wait… _what_?" I half gasped, half sputtered, finally reaching the landing and making my way across to the room Sam and I shared. "Is it… Cole's?" I asked after a moment of her stuttering on the other end.  
>"Yeah… he's the only person I've been with. " She responded in a half panicked tone, as if my own surprise had made her even more unstable.<br>"Are you sure? Like… did you take a, uh, test?" I asked, lowering my own voice for some reason – even though I knew the boys were downstairs and far out of earshot.  
>"Yeah, like, three. After I realized I missed my period." She swallowed, almost a gulp. In the background, I could hear her rustling around – as if she was shifting through papers of some sort.<br>"Were they… positive?"  
>"Yeah. All three of them."<p>

I paused, sighing and leaning against the door, listening to it click shut behind me as I looked around Sam's room – observing the paper cranes that hung from almost every inch of his ceiling.

"Oh my god. You and… you and _Cole_…" I whispered, rubbing my temples.  
>"I know, Grace! I fucking know, alright?" She seemed to grow frustrated at this point. "I need to figure out what to do. How to tell him. <em>If <em>I should tell him. All that bullshit." She spewed into the phone in one giant, run-on sentence.  
>"Alright, alright. I 'gotta go, or else Sam and Cole are 'gonna come looking for me. Just… try to figure out what you're 'gonna do, Isabel, okay?" I sighed. "Come up with a plan before you get here, please."<br>I could hear another sigh come from her end. "Yeah, I know, Grace." She paused. "Thank you."

And she hung up.  
>I don't know why I expected anything different from Isabel.<p>

I clicked the phone off and threw it onto the bed before sitting on the chair beside Sam's desk, staring half-heartedly at my books and the papers that accompanied them. I ran my hands over my face, rubbing my eyes and looking around drearily. I couldn't believe this.

Cole, you're such a fucking idiot sometimes.

-Cole-

Foraging for food in the kitchen proved to be a lost cause. The house was devoid of anything edible – except for half a jar of peanut butter, moldy white bread, and a bottle of mustard from when Sam and Grace had gone shopping, like, a month ago. I considered making a peanut-butter-mustard smoothie… but that idea was shot down almost as quickly as it had surfaced.

"Sam!" I hollered down the stairs. Plan B.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He huffed, climbing the stairs two steps at a time and shutting the door behind him. "What now, Cole?" He half growled, rolling his eyes.

"There's no food in the house and I'm starving." I rubbed my stomach, offering Sam the best puppy-dog-eyes I could.

It was a futile attempt.

"So order a pizza. You're a big boy." He retorted, turning to make his way into the living room, flopping onto the couch.  
>"I have no money, Sam. I'm just a poor boy, from a poor family." I begged, leaning my weight onto my forearms and watching him from a reclining chair.<br>"Grace and I'll go shopping tomorrow, until then, find money to scrap up for takeout or something."

I narrowed my eyes, turning and strutting back into the kitchen. Well, Sam was no help. And Grace was on the phone.

Or, so I thought. I heard soft footsteps come down the stairs, and turned to see Grace talking to Sam.

Sam sighed and stood from the couch, leaning back to crack his spine. "Cole, get shoes on. We're going out to eat."

I grinned at Grace, who returned the smile, and half ran up the stairs to find boots.


	6. Lies

-Grace-

I grunted, ignoring the chaffing that cut into my belly – just below my breasts – as I leaned over the side of the tub, bleaching hysterically. Vaguely, I remembered that Sam had once mentioned that I tended to obsessively clean everything when stressed. But that thought was quickly replaced as I squeezed the sponge and continued my bout, until I heard a round of over-exaggerated coughing behind me.

"You know, Grace, there was a lady on that show 'My Strange Addiction' who was addicted to bleach. I think I have the number, if you want." Cole snickered, Sam rolling his eyes beside him.  
>"Cole, you're a fucking comedian, aren't you?" He retorted, my tone as icy as I could make it. Which seemed to startle Sam – he knew I was used to Cole's constant teasing. I'd never really reacted to his taunts like this before.<p>

"Ooh, feisty Grace. Droppin' the f-bomb. I like it." Cole sneered, winking before turning away – distracted by the beep of a microwave in the background. I continued to furiously scrub the tub before standing and rinsing it off. Behind me, I heard Sam sigh – and in my mind's eye I could imagine him running one of those large-palmed hands through his hair. The scent of the bleach burned my nose, stinging those extra-senses I had been prone to since those months ago. But the painful sting took my mind off of Isabel and other Isabel-related things. Sam sat down on the toilet seat, observing me as I rinsed the tub out. In the back of my mind, I realized just how far he'd come. He's come from kicking and screaming and crying whenever he saw this bathroom door open to being able to quietly sit only inches away from his worst nightmare. My heart ballooned with a mix of pride and a swell of affection, but an aching sadness that he would even be like that in the first place. I turned, gathering up by cleaning supplies and standing tall again before I was suddenly blocked by a much taller Sam. He cupped both of my cheeks with his hands, looking me in the eyes with a brow quirked before he pressed our lips together softly.

"What's the matter, Grace? You're not yourself." He pecked my lips again. "Yesterday you arranged all the pasta and wiped down the kitchen, and now you're bleaching the house and cursing out Cole." He pointed out, ever observant.  
>"It's just… nothing." I pulled away from his hold, ducking under his arm and squeezing past his side to flee the tiny bathroom with my bucket of cleaning solutions, ready to head upstairs to begin bleaching that bathroom.<p>

Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath me and my bucket dropped as I was thrown over Sam's broad shoulder. He laughed, holding me by my waist and thigh. I squirmed, but he simply tightened his grip and tossed me onto the couch, despite my vocal protests.

He leaned down above me, his forearms bordering my face as he locked his amber eyes onto mine. "Grace, is something wrong with you? Me? Cole? Isabel? What's wrong?" He repeated. I may have cringed a bit at Isabel's name, because Sam's face flashed with something of realization.

"So it's Isabel. What happened?" He prodded, refusing to let me up.

"I… nothing, Sam! Nothing. Everything's fine! I swear." I plastered the best fake smile I could onto my face, swallowing.

"Come on, Grace! I'm not falling for that. Just tell me!" He pried.

"Nothing is wrong, Samuel K. Roth." I narrowed my eyes a bit, savoring the surprised look from the use of his full name.

"Grace Brisbane, you tell me what's wrong right this instant." He switched tones, to the stern we're-going-to-talk-whether-you-want-to-or-not voice that was normally used solely when Cole misbehaved. I pushed him off me and sat up, crossing my legs.

"Nothing. Is. Wrong."

He continued to stare at me for a bit, obviously disbelieving.

"Sam, nothing is wrong. Nothing is serious. I promise." I responded again, my tone softening.

He sighed, standing straight and walking to the kitchen – glancing over his shoulder as he did so. Once he was out of sight, I scrambled to pick up my bucket and supplies and fled up the stairs – snatching a phone from the cradle-charger as I did so. I quickly dialed Isabel's number, locking the bathroom door behind me and running the sinkwater just in case Sam decided to follow me back up.

"Hey Grace." Came the response on the other end. I felt somewhat guilty, especially because Isabel sounded like she'd just woken up, or something.

"Isabel, we have a problem. A big, big problem."  
>"What? Is Cole okay? Sam? You? What happened?" her tone changed from sleepy and groggy to alert and concerned in less than thirty seconds.<br>"No, yeah, everyone's fine. It's just that, I can't lie to Sam. He knows me too well and I feel awful lying to him. He knows something is up, but he doesn't know what and it's making him even more suspicious." I rambled, sighing deeply as I finished my sentence.

I heard her sigh on the other end, a few moments of heavy silence passing between us before she spoke again.

"You can tell him, Grace, I guess. Knowing Sam he'd figure it out when I got there, anyway. But make him swear on his fucking life he won't even breath about it near Cole. Tell him if he does I will personally set a mousetrap on both of his testicles." She half chuckled, her voice containing a soft amusement. Here I was, sitting and freaking out about her fucking pregnancy, and she was chuckling.

"Not funny, Isabel!"

She must've thought I meant about Sam getting his ball's chopped off, not the fact that I was the only one seemingly taking this seriously, because she responded; "Okay, alright, sorry. I know you need those. But tell him if you need to. Cole can't know, not yet, Grace. Sam needs to understand that. I 'gotta go, my mom's getting suspicious because I've been in the bathroom for more than my normal shower time and I don't need her listening to me throw up."

"Alright. Bye." I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I hung up. I exhaled deeply and leaned against the sink. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I heard a soft knock come from the door, followed by Sam's inquisitive voice. I stood, turning the sink off and unlocking it as I slowly pushed my way out of the bathroom. Before I could even speak, I was bombarded by Sam's voice.

"Look, Grace. I'm sorry I was prying before. I should've stopped asking. It's none of my business and if something were really wrong I know you would tell me. It must be really important and one of those girl's only best friends thing that guy's can't or don't understand and I'm sorry for being irritating." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked me over with those gentle, honey-gold eyes.

I needed to tell him.

It was killing me, seeing him be nothing but concerned for me and completely believing my all-out lie.

"Sam, I haven't exactly been honest with you…" I started. I saw his eyes grow wide and continued quickly; "That thing with Isabel… it's more than just a silly… "girl's only" secret… it's serious…."


	7. Sam Knows

-Grace-

"Sam… Isabel is pregnant." I exhaled deeply, finally putting it out there in the open. I was thankful that Cole was so easily distracted – especially by food and television.

He sort of stared at me for a bit, and I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to process this new information. Sam was intelligent, but this was a low blow. A bit of a suckerpunch, almost.

"Pregnant?" He inquired, brow quirked, looking at me as if I was suddenly speaking Swahili.  
>I nodded, slowly, before adding; "With Cole's baby."<p>

His jaw dropped, and if it weren't for the severity of the situation – I would've laughed.  
>"They had s<em>ex? <em>Did they do it here? In my house? I'll kill him! Oh my god, they can't be parents, Cole's a moron!" He exclaimed, seemingly more horrified over the fact Cole and Isabel had sex rather than Isabel was pregnant.

"Shh! Be quiet! Cole can't know yet!" I urged, waving my hands up at him.  
>"Cole doesn't know?"<br>"Sam, shut _up! _No! He doesn't! And it's staying that way until Isabel tells him!" I insisted, half growling at him.

He nodded suddenly, his mouth closing as he thought, chewing on his lower lip. "So… this whole time you've been stressed because of this?" He asked finally.  
>I nodded. "I… hated lying to you. You have to swear you won't tell him, Sam."<br>"I won't." He ran a hand through his hair, fluffing it up and giving himself a ruffled look.  
>"And when she gets here, <em>don't <em>stare at her stomach, or do anything… weird… please?" I swallowed.  
>"Okay, jesus. You act like I've never been around a pregnant woman before. How far along is she?" He changed the subject before I could correct him – because, as far as I knew – he has never been around a pregnant woman.<p>

I shrugged, tapping my chin as I thought it out. "A month, or so. I'd guess, anyway. I'm not a Doctor…"  
>He sighed again, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Cole and Isabel." He confirmed, and after several moments of silence; "God, I hope it wasn't in this house…"<p>

-Isabel-

I started to pack my second suitcase for my trip back to Minnesota. My mom keeps insisting that I don't need so many outfits but what does she know? First off, I'm a girl. I need an outfit – or two, for different moods – for every possible occasion. Sure, it was unlikely there'd be a freak snowstorm in the summer – but I had to be prepared and bringing my coat was a necessity. I sat on the suitcase, attempting to squish it down so I could zip it up.

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear. "All packed?"  
>"Just about." I shrugged. "I just have to get toiletries and makeup and shoes and stuff, now."<br>She nodded, seating herself at my desk.

Oh no. I do not feel like being lectured. Not after I just spent two hours hovering around in the bathroom throwing up.

"Isabel, I don't know if I'm comfortable letting you stay there. Grace lives at her _boyfriend's _house… and they're not even married. And that… Cole… person lives there, doesn't he?"  
>"What's wrong with that? You and dad moved in together fresh out of high school. And so what if Cole's there?" I crossed my arms below my breasts, mentally daring her to pick a fight with me.<br>"Well, I _did _catch you two naked under the desk in my office… I just don't know what would happen if you were both unsupervised."  
>"Okay, stop. Right there. I'm not doing anything with him. Besides, Sam and Grace are like parents and would beat us over the head with shovels if we even breathed within the same bedroom as each other." I scoffed, realizing how true my words were only when they left my mouth. I was on such a lying kick, lately. But what else was new when your boyfriend and best friend were werewolves?<p>

"Well… I expect you to call. Or _at least _answer your phone." I knew she didn't want me to answer my phone out of care, she just wanted to make sure I wasn't doing anything that could ruin her and dad's reputation more than it already was ruined. I had more important things to deal with than answering her measly phonecalls, anyway.  
>"Alright, mom." I nodded absent-mindedly, turning my back on her. This conversation was done.<p>

I made my way into the bathroom, rooting around in the cabinets and shelves for my things. I thought about everything that could possibly go wrong – Cole's reaction, Sam's reaction, my parents finding out… anything that could've gone wrong, and how it could and when it could. After finding all my things, I dumped them all into a duffle bag. I toyed with the zipper, sighing to myself.

I dug through the blankets on my bed to find my cellphone, and clicked dial. As she always did, Grace answered before the first ring could even finish.

"Hey, Grace."  
>"Hi. I told Sam. He said he won't tell. What's up?"<p>

She sounded somewhat breathless, as if she had to run to grab the phone from wherever she had left it. I could hear the television, vaguely, in the background.

"I'unno. I was just wondering how I'm 'gonna tell Cole. Things I can tell my parents as excuses to stay for a year or so." I shrugged instinctually, unaware that Grace couldn't see my body language. "Like… what if he's a deadbeat? Or doesn't want me?"  
>She laughed softly into the other end, which agitated me, but before I could scold her, she spoke. "I think he wants you plenty."<br>"I meant as, like… more than just a baby mama." I rolled my eyes into the phone. "Maybe I'm not even the only one." The thought just struck me – but it was possible. He was in a band. He did tour. He did sleep with lots of women. Did he have other bastard children out there? Was there a club? Okay, that was a dumb question – but it amused me a bit, which relaxed me.

"Isabel, you need to stop freaking yourself out. If he doesn't want to be a father, then he doesn't. But I doubt he'd just leave you."

Oh, Grace. Always trying to be rational and optimistic.

"I want us to be a family, Grace."

To be honest, I have no idea why I said it. I didn't want to tell her that. It was personal, and stupid, and thought of in a moment of hormonal vulnerability.

"Aww!" She squealed, somewhat teasing, but something told me she actually did find my statement adorable. And I couldn't say I was too happy about that.

"Grace, stop. It's embarrassing enough." I drawled, my tone bitter.  
>"Why embarrassing? You're having his baby, you might as well 'wanna be a family."<br>"Because, I want like you and Sam have… but Cole isn't like Sam. And I'm not like you. Cole and I are too alike and total catastrophes to the population."  
>"That's not a bad thing." She pointed out in an optimistic hum. "You've changed a lot, anyway. Maybe he can – or has – too. You never know. Cole's always got a surprise up his sleeve. That's always a guarantee."<br>"Yeah, I guess that's true." I bit my lip, wondering what she said. It was true. He was always full of unexpected surprises – especially when you least expected him to be. "Anyway, I 'gotta finish packing. I'll call you later." I promised before hanging up, regardless of her answer.

I sprawled out on my back in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Hiking my shirt up, I splayed my palm across my belly, rubbing it – albeit a bit awkwardly. I thought of saying something to it, but there really were no words. Nothing to say, I guess.

Heaving myself into a sitting position, I threw the three bags I had already packed onto the floor – eager to finish so I could just get to bed already.

I would need all the sleep I could get.


	8. Boarding Flight

**Author's Note: **I'm so sorry for the month-or-more delay! My laptop was apparently unfixable, so my dad had to just get me a whole new one – and _then _I had to transfer all of my pictures, documents, and music (Which _still _isn't done!) – so it's been a major project getting this chapter up! I tried to make it long, but I promise updates will be happening sooner and sooner starting now! Thanks for all your patience! I hope you enjoy!

-Cole-

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP! ISABEL HAS BOARDED!" I screamed, banging wooden spoons on pots and pans.  
>"Cole, <em>shut the fuck up<em>!" I heard Sam shriek from his room, slamming on the wall with his fists.

Several minutes later, it was Grace who bounded down the stairs and started her daily pot of coffee – completely disregarding me with the full package of bedhead and disgruntled sleeping clothes.

"Did she call you, or something? Or are you just being a stalker?" She looked up at me from her position at the fridge – where I could guess she was getting the coffee creamer.

I, myself, sat on the floor of the kitchen – leaning against some cupboards with my legs crossed.

"Well, sort of." I shrugged, drawling as innocently as I could.  
>"Cole…" She warned, her voice waning.<br>"Okay, she technically texted you. But in my defense – you left your phone on neutral grounds." I rolled my eyes, digging into my pockets to pull out Grace's little red phone – which glowed brightly for a moment before the light died down.

She groaned, placing the thing of coffee creamer on the counter and glaring at me – pressing her fingers to her temple. "Cole, don't-"

I cut her of as fast as I could with a quick; "I normally don't because I don't care to see pictures of Sam's dick but I wouldn't mind seeing one of you naked-" I ended with a wink, and an over-exagerated jester's grin.

"Dumbass, I delete those texts. Watch yourself." She grinned back at me, catching onto my joke with ease before her little coffee machine dinged, which distracted her from the oh-so-glorious me.

I heard the stairs squeak from around the corner and turned to flash the oncoming Sam my brightest and most intolerable grin ever. "Good morning, sunshine!"  
>I was answered with him shoving me in the side with a socked foot, causing me to inhale quickly and I scowled as he padded into the kitchen to press his lips to Grace's cheek.<p>

"Say good morning to him!" Grace reprimanded, shoving him in the chest a bit, playfully.  
>He groaned, but turned to frown at me anyway, and grumbled something.<p>

I scrambled to my feet, throwing my arm around Sam's shoulders before singing in a showtune sort of way; "Isabel's coming ho~me today~!"

"I know." He shook me off, scuttling to the other side of the kitchen eagerly. "Now I'll have to deal with the both of you." He frowned, digging through one of the cupboards to find – hopefully – a frying pan. Because fuck, I wanted srambled eggs. And that goddamn housewife Ringo was going to make me some if it was the last request I had.

"Do you know what that means?" I grinned, looking at the both of them and leaning against the breakfast counter. They both loked at me, curious, before glancing at one another.

"Payback, for all the nights your sex noises kept me awake." I grinned, resting my cheek on my knuckles as I watched Grace grow red in the face and Sam drop the frying pan on his foot and howl in pain and surprise.

"Cole St. fucking Clair-!"

I grinned and launched myself into the living room – vaulting over the couch to hopefully outrun the now rampaging Samuel K. Roth – trampling my way up the stairs and laughing as he followed me, a stream of cuss-words flowing from his mouth as he ran.

-Isabel-

Getting boarded onto the train was like a project and a half.

The lines were agonizingly long, and getting all my bags checked halfway through did not help – especially when they made me throw out the bottles of shampoo and conditioner I had.

But finally, after at least an hour and a half – I sat in the window seat of a plane – squished against the wall by some other lady who was talking _way _too loudly into her bluetooth.

I groaned, tilting my head back onto the headrest and glancing out the window as flight attendents shuffled this way and that in the aisle, talking about seatbelts and other unimportant shit.

Cole better fucking appreciate everything I'm going through for him.

-Cole-

After getting pinned to the floor and almost spit on by Sam, and then eating half-burned eggs Grace had hastily thrown together, and showering, I was finally ready to accompany the peasants I lived with (AKA Sam and Grace) to the airport to pick up Queen Culpeper.

Dressing in shorts, flip flops, and a tee-shirt – ignoring Sam's calls of being a teenage dirtbag – I sat myself on the couch until the other two were ready to get going.

_Finally_ Isabel was coming home. After a lot of months that I didn't feel like counting – I was about to be accompnied in this sitcom of a house. I kept hoping she would at least have a tan – because she looked damn good pale, and I could only imagine how sexy she'd be with a tan-

The sudden shriek of a phone ringing disturbed my perverted thoughts, and so, begrudgingly, I stood to answer it.

"Da?"  
>"Cole!" –It was Isabel, her voice sort of crackly.<br>"Isabel! Did the plane land yet?" I asked excitedly – because attempting to contain my excitement wouldn't have even worked at this point.  
>"Yeah, I'm still getting my bags and crap, though, so no rush." I heard her again, and the background noise picked up this time – voices shouting, things banging.<br>"Okay, I'll round the other two into the car. Seeya soon!" I half screamed into the phone, not even waiting for her to answer before hanging it up and throwing it onto the couch.

"SAM! GRACE!" I called from the bottom of the stairs, banging on the railing. "LET'S GO!"

Sam and Grace came leisurely down the stairs at least three minutes into my tantrum, telling me to shut up, before grabbing a pair of keys from the coffee table.

I bolted from the foyer and outside – slamming into the car and ripping the backseat open as Sam locked the front door and Grace settled into the passenger seat.

The entire time Sam was walking down the pathway and to the car, I made random noises to him, causing him to half growl at me as he slid into the driver's seat –slamming his door shut and starting the car.

I could only bounce up and down in the backseat, excited, as we hit the road.


	9. Homecoming Reunions

-Isabel-

Getting off the plane wasn't as big of an issue as it was getting on. Finding my bags on the conviar-belt thing was also a bit of a project, but in the end I managed pretty well and didn't curse people out… outloud, at least. So all in all, it was a success.

Making my way over to where I was supposed to meet Sam, Grace, and Cole took a little bit of walking – mostly because I had to stop every now and then to readjust my bags in an easier position to carry them all without them falling all over the place. Several people nearly slammed into me during some of these pauses, but I managed to make it out unscathed.

It was when I had finally managed to find a goddamn place to sit that I heard my name, called out like a child after it's mother – and only seconds after, I got the wind fucking _ripped from my lungs._

"Cole, you're 'gonna squish me!" I argued into his chest, my words muffled by his shirt as he clasped his hands together behind my back – shoving my face into the crook of his collarbone. From what little I could see, Sam and Grace followed behind Cole like two disapproving parents, but grined at me none-the-less.

After struggling and wiggling for a bit, I finally managed to pry myself out of Cole's arms before I returned his hug again – this time, without the pain.

"You 'gotta tell us aaaaaaaalllll about Cali!" He laughed into my ear before pulling away for the others to greet, and from what I could make out – he was eyeing me up and down, looking for a tan, or just enjoying the view.

I gave Sam one of those quick ugs you see guys give each other in the movies – a bit awkward, but still just as caring as a bear-hug. But it was Grace who enveloped me with both arms, and after a moment we both pulled away. Wordlessly, Sam gathered some of my bags with Cole to help us bring them to the car.

As we walked, Cole kept asking me if all the California cliches were true – daisy dukes, bikinis on top, gay people everywhere, Beverley Hills, toy dogs in purses, white sand and blue beaches – the whole nine years. Every question I answered with a laugh, denying almost all of them – and explaining the truth behind those stereotypes as best as I could – because discussing things with Cole was almost exactly like explaning things to a small child.

The car ride home was spent squished between my bags and Grace, who asked me question after question about beaches – because she had never seen one face to face herself. So I described it alll for her – the rolling waves, foaming waters, hot sand, and even the whistle-toting lifeguards and energetic beach-goers.

"We'll deinitely go sometime. You'll love it. Maybe I can convince my parents to let us stay a summer at my house, or something." I offered hopefully, and couldn't help but to grin at the way her face lit up.

Of course, our tender, girl-bonding moment was ended by Cole blasting some radio station and singing along – very off-pitch and high-tuned – to Kesha's Tik Tok.

I sort of felt bad for Sam, because Cole was a very enthusiastic dancer – even when belted into a car.

-Cole-

I only stopped singing after we had gotten home.

I didn't even stop after the song ended.

I am a true preformer.

So anyway, once we got home Sam and I helped lug all of Isabel's luggage into the house, up the stairs, and into my bedroom – where she would be staying. She had been offered her own room, but denied that and decided to stay with me.

At that, I turned to Sam and winked, who rolled his eyes and sighed as he slamed the two bags he carried onto my still not-made bed.

So once the general excitement of it all was over and Grace and Sam had headed downstairs to begin making dinner – I think Grace mentioned something about a pot roast, or something of that nature – I pulled Isabel from the top of the stairs and into the bedroom, closing the door with a soft click.

"I missed you a lot, Isabel." I admitted, wrapping my arms around her again and pulling her into my chest. I heard her sigh and giggle a little bit, thumping me on the back lightly, teasingly.

"I missed you too, Cole." She responded.

We stayed like that for a while – just hugging each other and leaning against the wood of the door. But after some time, we could hear Sam calling for us downstairs – so we disentagled ourselves from one another and made our way back to the main floor of the house – me, riding on the stair banister, and Isabel – actually walking like a normal human being.

Freak.

However, as we reached the bottom of the stairs, the two of us were separated as Sam grabbed me by the upper arm and pulled me out onto the driveway to help take out the garbage – something I grumbled out, but did anyway because arguging with Sam was like arguging with a child – it wouldn't get you anywhere, and he would win, anyway.

But while Sam was taking the last pail to the curb and I was making my way back into the house through the side door into the kitchen, I couldn't help but to hear a few suspicious… snippets of a conversation bewteen Isabel and Grace.

"When should I tell Cole?"

I paused at Isabel's question. Tell me what? My heart lurched into my throat at the possibilties that aroused in the back of my mind – but I muffled them quickly, trying to listen to some more of the conversation for extra context.

"Doesn't matter so much when, it'll happen. But how'll you bring it up, even?" Grace responded – not even answering Isablel's question.

I grunted, because they never went into specifics about whatever it is they were talking about. And I had to stop eavesdropping anyway, because Sam had made his way back up the driveway and was coming up quickly behind me and I didn't want him asking me any weird questions.

"Hello, ladies~" I grinned, pushing my way into the kitchen with Sam following on my heels – ignoring a light sense of uneasiness that gnawed deep in my belly, and instead did my normal, almost daily routine of nearly destroying Grace's cooking.

_Later that night…._

After everyone said their goodnights, Isabel and I stayed up for a bit longer – munching on chocolate bars Grace had in the fridge and talking before we decided to head up to bed.

After changing into pajamas, I laid myself down on my usual side of the bed – burying my face into my pillow and hiking the covers up to my shoulders.

I felt Isabel rest herself beside me, yawning into the back of my neck as she dug her way under the covers to press her chest and belly to my back – her body offering a nice and cozy additional source of heat. She pressed her lips, sloppily, to the back of my neck – just where my hairline began – and nuzzled. "I really did miss you." She started, her voice somewhat groggy with sleep. "I thought about you a lot."

"Really?" I answered, my head shifting in the slightest so I could catch a glimpse of her face. She nodded again, her forehead banging gently against the top of my spine.

"Well, I'm here now." I uttered, my head resting on the pillow once more as she curled around me – and I let her be the big spoon, because I as too tired and warm and content to flip our positions.

The last rational thought I could remember before I fell asleep was something along the lines of;

_Cole St. Clair, you're in love with this woman. _


	10. Excuses, Excuses

**Author's Note: **Hey everyone! I'm so sorry it took so long to update. I know you're probably sick of the excuses, but there really is a reason this time. My co-author has been sick recently, and we've also been handed a shitload of AP coursework in school. On top of that, there have been multiple personal problems that cropped up. Please accept our apologies and enjoy this chapter! Thank you so much for your patience!

-Grace-

Isabel and I must've been sitting at that goddamn kitchen table for hours. And I don't even want to bring up how many cups of coffee and tea we must've had. After about the ninth, twenty-minute-long spew of silence, she finally threw her head down against the table – hands in the air.

"Can't I just fucking _tell _them I don't want to go back!? That _this _is my home!?" she groaned in exasperation.

"You and I both know they wouldn't go for that." I couldn't help but to be the pessimistic one of the two of us with that – but really, we had to get real. Isabel's parents wouldn't believe that crop of bullshit. Let alone be okay with accepting it.

And yet another silence fell upon us. It was really getting annoying, to be honest. We'd been up for the earlier half of the morning, thinking and debating different ways to convince Isabel's parents to allow her to stay for a longer amount of time without sounding suspicious.

"I got it." I finally heard her mumble – but before I could ask, she had already whipped out that cellphone of hers – pressed it against her ear – and waited for someone to pick up. So fast, in fact, I didn't even see her dial anything. But then I remembered it probably had speed-dial. (I remembered this because Cole had four different pizza-places on _his _speed-dial.)

"Hey, mom. It's me. Yeah – everything's great. So great, in fact, that I was _wondering _if I could stay a little longer? I actually got that job! Remember – back when we lived here – I always wanted to work at that little book-store?" I could hear some squeaky words on the other end of the phone, as Isabel paused. "You don't remember?" She lied; "It's all I ever _talked about!_ Well the point is I got the job. So I was wondering if I can stay here for a while to work and maybe save up some money for, like, college and stuff? So I can start being independent – like dad's always complaining about?" She rolled her eyes, lies spewing from her mouth faster than I could even imagine.

She nodded, agreed, and basically bullshitted for a few more minutes before hanging up and flashing me a grin – accompanied with a thumbs up. "I just bought myself a year's extension… as long as I call and check up more often." She added hastily, with a frown. "See? I know how to get what I want – a little arguing, and she gives in. Thank God for parents who don't care." She smiled, but the twinge of sadness that flashed behind her eyes was unmistakable.

It seemed more and more like Isabel was just talking to herself – mostly because she talked so fast, I could barely get a word in – but the next thing she added caught me off guard.

"I'm not going to be that kind of parent."

And then she paused, before looking absolutely horrified.

"I'm going to have to actually _get a job_!" She groaned.

I couldn't help but to laugh at that – patting her arm a bit. "I know , it's hard to get used to. Who would've guessed that _the _Ms. Isabel Culpeper would actually be – dare I say it? – _middle class!_"

We both laughed at that, which was good – because at least now she had some sort of positive distraction.

"Besides, just imagine buying adorable baby outfits. It'll make working easier." I couldn't help but to add, knowing just how… fashionista Isabel could get.

She agreed, and I couldn't help but to allow my mind to wander as we talked about various baby products. Specifically, my mind wandered to children. But not Cole and Isabel's – more like to possibilities for Sam and I. I knew it was far in the future – but maybe two pups, after a nice, beautiful wedding, was in store. I hadn't brought up children yet – and marriage, maybe only twice – at Sam's request – but it seemed like a sensitive subject to him. I figured it was that way because of the relationship – or lack thereof – with his own parents. Almost as if Sam was scared there'd be a repeat of his incident.

But then again, the future could always change.

-Isabel-

Doctors, jobs, Cole… so much going through my head. My bank account was pretty full – and I knew I'd have access to it, no problem. Doctor… I guess Grace could help me find one. Or some. I'm not exactly sure on how many Doctors you need for this sort of stuff. But Cole. Cole, Cole, Cole, Mr. St. Clair himself. How would I tell him? Do I spring it on him and hope for the best, or leave subtle clues and hope he figures it out in time? There were a million questions. Among those, some of the others included; How would he even react? Would he be a good father? Or would he be like mine – or his? Would he even stick around? Or would he leave?

Either way, I hoped he'd be good. I hoped he'd stick around. I felt a familiar, sickening churning in my stomach and leapt for the bathroom – barging through the closed door before I could even knock.

If it wasn't for how sick I felt, I would've laughed at the sight of a shirtless Sam with a mouth full of toothpaste and one fresh, scarlet-dipped razor-cut on his jawline – who's attention dipped from the mirror to me as I collapsed in front of the toilet and upchucked all of those cups of coffee and tea Grace and I had binged on.

I could hear the water begin to run from the sink, someone spit, and then felt my hair being gathered away from my face and pulled behind me – and, despite its awkwardness, I couldn't help but to feel appreciative.

Because I had eaten so little, I didn't have to remain there for long – and quickly stood back up, with the help of a flustered Sam. Before he could say anything, I cut in.

"I didn't mean to barge in – sorry, Sam." It came out more like a sigh and less like an apology.

I had to bite back a grin at his next response, because it was nearly hysterical how awkward this kid was with females – let alone pregnant ones. "It's, uh, it's fine. Ya' know with your… um… you know." He paused, clearing his throat. "Yeah."

He turned back to the sink to gargle something, before scurrying out the door and around the corner into his room – the door clicking shut behind him.

I grinned, snorting in amusement before brushing my own teeth and returning downstairs to the living room.

Only to be met with a bone-crushing hug from Cole.

I leaned up to brush our lips together, like we normally did, but was met instead with him scooping me up and tossing me over his shoulder. Because I had just finished throwing up the contents of my stomach, the last thing I felt was happy – being hoisted into the air so ungracefully. I could feel my stomach tighten and snapped at him to put me down – which he did, surprised at my sudden outburst. I mean, he must've been used to my outbursts – but never this seriously.

"Keep your panties on, Princess. I didn't mean to freak you out." He snorted in his apologetic-Cole sort of way. I laughed, whapping him on the shoulder lightly in an attempt to restore any semblance of normality. "It's alright, you big oof. Just think before you toss me around like a hacky-sack."

He laughed, returning my whap with a flick of his fingers against my cheek. Before I could rebuttal, he vaulted himself over the back of the couch and crash-landed into the cushions, grasping the nearby remote and flickering on that Animal Planet show with the guy who was known to drink his own piss – or something like that. All I know is that was the last thing I wanted to watch, so I fled to the kitchen.

-Sam-

When Cole picked up Isabel I almost screamed. I wasn't an expert when it came to the care of pregnant women, but I could figure out that probably wasn't the most ideal activity for them. I hated how Isabel still hadn't told him – it wasn't fair and it was making things awkward in the house. He deserves to know; and I hated keeping it from him.

I do have to say, I'm pretty proud that I didn't pass out or anything when she threw up today. I seriously thought I was 'gonna lose it. I was just glad that the television provided white noise for my thoughts; and distraction for Cole.

"Hey, Sam?"

Fuck. Nevermind.

I sighed, deciding it'd be smart to answer before he got extra annoying. "Yes, Cole?"

"Have you noticed anything…" He paused to think; "…Weird, about Isabel and Grace? They kinda' sneak off together a lot. I hope they're doing something cool, like having sex with each other. I'd love to watch that shit. What do you think they're doing?"

I rolled my eyes; leave it to Cole to figure out the enigma that was the female mind. Typical Cole stupidity. "I highly doubt that's what they're doing, Cole."

"It would be awesome, though. Don't you think? So hot."

I sighed again, feeling my patience already wearing thin. "Yeah, whatever." I agreed for the sake of him dropping the subject – hoping he would grow quiet and unconcerned again.

No such luck for me.

"But, seriously, what do you think they talk about? Girl shit? Like… periods and stuff? Us?" He sounded curious now, brainstorming conversation possibilities for the two females of our 'pack'.

I shrugged it off as best I could and glued my eyes to the television program – despite how painstakingly boring it was. Maybe, just maybe, if I stayed calm and quiet he would forget I existed and drop it. Thankfully, he finally just shrugged – a Cole-symbol for giving up – and reached for the remote.

I hoped Isabel would get a move on and tell him soon.

"You okay? You seem off." He spoke again, this time glancing at me as he changed the channel – heading toward MTV and away from Animal Planet.

Fuck. I knew it was only a matter of time. I sucked at keeping secrets around my friends. But I had to think of another lie to cover it up, and quick.

"Nah, I'm fine." I swallowed, glancing at him. "Just a little nervous about fall."

It wasn't a complete lie – so that made me feel better. It was almost fall; and the sixty-seventy degree weather wouldn't last forever. It was only a matter of time until the cold chill of winter crept up on is.

Cole grunted, seeming to accept this answer as he refocused his attention to the tv once more – finding interest in Teen Mom, or some shit.

I wondered, vaguely, if the weather would affect the baby. Or how it would. And then I thought of the others – like Beck.

I figured I'd go visit them. Maybe tomorrow – or sometime soon, if I had the chance. I wanted to see how they were all doing.

And besides, visiting them would give me a chance to clear my head of all this baby nonsense.


	11. Revelations

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the bit of a delay in update! Hurricane Sandy knocked out both me and my co-author's power on and off for a few days. I also apologize for this chapter being so short, but…! Well, I'll just let you read on ;)

-Cole-

For the third time this week, I rolled over to feel a cold spot where a warm Isabel usually lay.

Grunting, I roused myself to my feet and planted them on the carpeted ground – spreading my toes a bit as I leaned back. Biting back a high-pitched whine as my joints shuffled in their sockets, I decided that was enough dilly-dallying and made my way into the hallway to investigate the mysterious, suspicious disappearance of my girlfriend.

Most of the doors upstairs were open. Sam's bedroom door was open a crack – I could see the shape of someone lying under the covers from the doorway. A mop of black hair. Sam. In Sam's room. Who would've thought? Hah.

The other rooms of the former Pack members had their doors open usually just for air circulation – the windows were cracked and the sheets were stale.

The only door that was _closed _was the door into the bathroom. And, judging from the space of light, somebody was in there.

Isabel?

Shuffling toward the door, I leaned against its frame and pressed my ear to the door as quietly as I could as to not rock it and alert whoever was in there that I was listening in.

"It's alright."

It took me a moment, but I eventually recognized the voice as Grace's. Soft and comforting and a little groggy. What caught me off guard, mostly, was the sound that followed. I've thrown up quite a few times in my life – and never have I heard someone throw up that violently.

Well, except that one time…

I paused as another voice caught my attention: Isabel's.

After waiting impatiently for a few moments, I finally backed up a pace and rapped my knuckles against the door. "Isabel? You okay?"

Frowning, I cleared my voice after speaking. Morning sleep-voice never sounded all that manly.

"I'm fine, Cole." Came her response, and I heard some shuffling and bumps on the other side of the door. "Go back to bed, I'll be out in a few."

Sighing, I slumped my shoulders and leaned back against the opposite wall – listening to the muffled sound of Isabel and Grace's conversation and the on and off running of the sink before the toilet flushed. Heartbeats later, Grace exited the bathroom first – offering me a sheepish, almost guilty smile.

"Yanno', if you two are having lesbian experiences, I'm not mad. I just 'wanna watch."

Grace snorted and bumped shoulders with me as she passed, returning to Sam's room. Turning my head, I watched Isabel awkwardly shut the bathroom door behind her and sigh, turning to face me.

"What's going on with you?" I murmured, licking my chapped lips as I followed her from the hallway and into my room again – observing as she sat on the edge of the bed, eyes focused on the floor.

"We need to talk." Was all she said, voice low.

"You bet your ass we need to talk." I grumbled in return, almost bitter-sounding as I stood before her, head tilted.

"I… I don't know how to word this gently, so I guess I should… guess I should just come out and say it." She swallowed, fiddling with the hem of her nightshirt.

I waited, and waited a little more. It wasn't until just before I was going to open my mouth and say something that I heard her – her words soft and almost scared sounding. So unlike the Isabel I knew and loved.

"I'm pregnant."

Wait… what?!


	12. Reaction

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all of your well-wishes! Hurricane Sandy, for us, wasn't too bad. Our power was knocked in and out for a few days, and there was no major damage other than a few fallen fences and small trees in backyards tossed about. However, only a mile from where we live – the entire town flooded. So it goes to show you something about "close calls". I tried to update to the next chapter fast, because I felt bad for leaving you guys at a cliffhanger! So please enjoy, and thanks again for your well-wishes!

-Isabel-

Finally, it was out there. I couldn't force myself to look Cole in the eyes. I didn't want to see disappointment or anger or… anything _negative. _He was silent, and so was I. It must've stayed that way for a… a solid ten minutes before he fell onto the bed next to me, scaring me half out of my skin.

"Pregnant."

That was all he said. In fact, it was such a simple, emotionless statement that it sort of caught me off guard. I nodded, slowly, and peeked at his face.

For the first time ever, to my surprise, Cole St. Clair was… nervous.

A few more deathly minutes of silence, before he pushed himself off the bed and paced back and forth – reminding me of one of those caged animals you would see at the zoo.

-Cole-

Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

How could I have gotten her pregnant!?

Okay, that was a dumb question.

But never have I ever knocked a girl up. Isabel was not my first time having unprotected sex – and this had never happened to the other girls ever before.

I glanced at her, only to observe her looking down at her toes – spread out on the carpet of the floor.

Oh, fuck. Now she thinks I'm mad at her.

Fuck.

Fuck me, fuck my life, fuck this, fuck that, fuck _everything_.

I knelt down in front of her, which seemed to catch her attention enough so she'd look me in the eyes.

"Do you want to keep it?"

She nodded quietly. Honestly, I don't know what I would've done if she had said no – but, I also don't know what I'm going to do and she said yes.

I offered her a small, forced smile – receiving one in return.

"You aren't mad?"

Her voice was so small. I don't think Isabel had ever sounded that… that… weak before. Ever.

"Why the fuck would I be mad with you? It's my fault, too." Was all I could say, without even really thinking about it. "I can't be mad if we had awesome sex and it resulted in a… a little surprise." I cleared my throat.

Pressing my lips to hers for a moment before I stood, I finally walked to the other side of the room and back. "Oh my god."

She looked at me questioningly.

"I'm going to be a fucking father."

She nodded, her hands resting against her belly.

"Wait." I paused, looking her over – she didn't look really pregnant… "How long have you known?"

It took her a few moments to respond, before she sighed. "A few months now…"

"Months!?" Oh my god. How could she know for _months _and not tell me!? That's ridiculous! I deserved to know! "And you didn't tell me you were carrying my child!? Didn't you think I had a right to know!?" I argued, hoping I didn't sound too angry… I was more frustrated than angry, really.

"I was scared, okay!" She snapped, startling me with her old, Isabel self.

"Isabel, you should know better of me than that! Have you seen a Doctor?"

I watched as she swallowed and slowly shook her head. Groaning, I ran my fingers down my face and ruffled the front part of my hair a bit.

"Cole, please… you don't get it. I've been terrified to tell you! I didn't know how you'd react! If you would want it or if you would want me to get rid of it or if you'd be a good dad… I don't need to be yelled at for being _scared!_"

"I'm yelling because you didn't tell me! We had _sex, _Isabel! Sex is for making babies! It's not like I would've been caught off guard! I'd probably be more angry if you told me you burned my Gameboy games! This is what happens when you have sex!"

"Are you saying you had other kids!?"

Wait, what? How the fuck did she get that…?  
>Her face was devastating, though. She looked like how she used to when she passed by the room Jack apparently died in. But worse. She looked scared and angry and jealous and nervous and it really was not attractive on her at all, to be honest.<p>

Lowering my voice, I cleared my throat again. "No, it hasn't happened. I'm just saying obviously there was a chance and I knew it. You could have told me earlier, Isabel."

"I'm sorry."

Another heavy pause set in between us, the silence nearly overbearing. In the back of my mind, I wondered if Sam or Grace were listening in… and that's when it hit me. This is why Isabel and Grace had been so sneaky and secretive for the past few weeks. They were talking about this.

"When can I see my baby?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

She smiled, sort of sad and sort of excited and a lot of nervous.

"I have an appointment next Thursday."

I nodded, rubbing at the stubble on my chin absently before cracking a smirk.

"So… does this mean you and Grace _weren't _having lesbian experiences?"

She laughed, standing to shove me a bit as I rocked against the wall, grinning back at her.

"You're an ass, Cole St. Clair."


	13. Setting In

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! Here's the next installment, as promised! Happy Veteran's day to you all! Now, I just wanted to address a little something. I know you might all be excited for upcoming chapters – but there's no need to be rude. Seriously. We read all of the reviews we get and reading reviews of people getting angry with us do not motivate us to want to update. We have social lives and academic responsibilities, along with personal and familial issues. We update when we can and we'd appreciate if you all respected that. To be fair, most of you have. But to those who haven't – please reconsider not reviewing at all if you can't say something nice or at least respectful. I apologize for this long Author's Note! Thanks for taking your time to read it!

-Cole-

Grace and Isabel had left to do "womanly things", as Isabel told me. I didn't ask, partially because nine times out of ten "womanly things" translated into leaking blood from some orifice of the body and I was not currently interested in that or the idea of it.

But, I guess since Isabel's pregnant, there wouldn't be a lot of blood until-

Okay, Cole. Enough. Stop thinking. Oh, god.

Sighing, I dragged my ass to Sam's room and flopped face-down on his bed, completely ignoring the fact he was reading at his desk. Probably some sappy love poems or a beat-up book from Beck's old library.

Taking a deep breath, I mumbled into the blankets that smelled a lot like Sam and a lot like Grace and a little like laundry detergent; "Isabel's pregnant." But it came out more muffled than I expected, probably sounding like a foreign language.

"I know." I heard him put his book down, the cover shutting softly after the flapping of pages.

"Like, how could I have been so stupid! I alwa-okay, _almost _always used a condom! I've never knocked a chick up before! I don't know what we're 'gonna do! How this works, it's all so weird but I _knew _Isabel's boobs were definitely getting bigger and—wait. You knew?" I ceased my rant, my head snapping up to face him as I readjusted myself across his comforter.

He nodded, guilt written in his eyes.

"You've known for a long time…" I pointed out, a knowledgeable venture.

Again, another nod.

"How long?"

"Since before she left for California…" He looked down at his lap, fiddling with his fingers.

"Since _before she left_!? You knew she was pregnant with _my _kid?! And you _didn't tell me!?" _I shot up and stood over him. Betrayed by Sam. Sam! Of all people, Ringo himself! How could he have _not _told me? I would tell _him _if Grace had a bun in the oven and she didn't want to tell him!

"Look, Cole…" He started, a half sigh.

"No – don't even come at me with that 'well, she should be the one to tell you' shit! You could have at least hinted! Is this why you've been so weird around her?"

"Yeah, but Cole, listen. I know you don't want to hear this, but I shouldn't be the one to tell you _your girlfriend is pregnant_. I'm not in your relationship. She's the one sharing her body with it, she should control when the father finds out. Or if." He shrugged, staring me down in that passive-aggressive bullshit manner the Alpha always tries to pull on its subordinates during those Animal Planet television programs.

Once he said the word 'father', all of my rage sort of melted away. The gravity of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks for, like, the seventh time that day and it hadn't even been six hours since she'd told me. "I'm going to be a father." Was all I could really manage to sigh as I slumped into the mattress again.

"Yup." He popped the 'p', like some dumb middle-schooler. It sort of annoyed me.

"What am I going to _do_? I'm a shit person! I can barely keep myself alive, let alone an offspring!"

"Oh, shut up, Cole. You'll be an amazing father who's hopeless in love with his offspring no matter what they do. I'm sure paternal instincts will kick in _eventually_. Even if you make bad decisions, you'll love it. I have _a little _faith in you." I sort of felt bad, because I could see the struggle in his eyes. Trying to hide sadness. No doubt about his parents – who never loved him as they should've.

"I'm 'gonna love little Cole Jr. more than anything. I can at least promise _that_."

We remained quiet for a while. A sort of companionable silence, I guess. He sort of scared me when he stood, in a jumpy-not-expecting sort of way. What really caught me off guard was when patted my shoulder in that bro-sort-of-way.

"I'm sure you won't mess up _too _badly."

"Sam, I'm going to be in charge of a living being."

"Scary shit, man." He chuckled, standing to his full height again and stretching, showing off his belly as he leaned back to crack and snap at his back.

"What do I do?" I swallowed, sort of asking for advice, sort of rhetorical.

"Uh…" He paused, rubbing at the side of his face absently as he thought. "You hold her hair back when she throws up, and hug her when she's being moody… and buy her her craving-foods even if it's in the wee hours of the morning. I guess you just love her. And it… the baby, I mean." He coughed, almost awkwardly – and, if it had been a normal day and a normal situation, I would've laughed at him for that. But I didn't.

This kid was forcing me to grow up already, sheesh. I hate responsibility.

"Oh, _fuck! _Isabel's bitchy enough! What am I 'gonna do now that it's _magnified_!? I mean, I love her, but Jesus _Christ!" _

Sam laughed, waving toward me as he walked toward the door.

"You're on your own there, buddy."


	14. Fall

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry for such a delay with the update. Really, there are no more excuses my co-author and I can use other than the truth that, emotionally and otherwise, a lot of things have been sapping our attention. Things much more important than our internet lives. Updates will be sporadic, but we will not abandon this fic. Thank you so much for sticking with us. We hope you had a merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, joyous Kwanza, or whatever you celebrate, and continue to have a happy and healthy New Year.

-Cole-

It was actually pretty cold out, for an early fall morning.

The house was pretty quiet. Only the slight whistle of a few drafts stung my ears at this asinine early hour. My bones felt sort of brittle, the way they get whenever a chill sets in. Settling into my marrow, like a long-lost friend reuniting. I shivered. Not even the scalding hot, shit-tasting coffee Sam and Grace liked was enough to warm up my insides. It felt like I was slowly being chilled from the inside out, like a bottle in a wine-cooler, only backwards. I stared out the back kitchen window, toward the Golden Woods. They looked horribly innocent, and even beautiful. Tranquil, maybe. But I knew those woods and the secrets they held. I knew what those trees whispered, late at night. The songs the wind sang whenever Jack Frost rippled on through.

Although I normally don't go out of my way to wake up early in the morning, in fact, most of the time, the only reason I'm awake in the early morning is because I haven't yet slept, today was one of those days. I stood with my cup of coffee, thinking. An abandoned legal pad and pen lay on the kitchen table. I had been attempting to scribble notes in there all morning. I decided to take a break, and stood here instead. I'm not sure why; and even if I was sure, I doubt I'd be able to put it into words. I just felt like it was the right thing to do, really.

I was thinking. I did a lot of that; a lot more than Sam or Grace or Isabel really thought I did, anyway. My mind flickered back and forth between things, buzzing like a kicked hornet's nest between topics and thoughts. How would I deal with the upcoming winter? I couldn't shift now. I couldn't leave Isabel and Cole Jr. alone. Would the baby have my werewolf-genetics? Well, not really werewolf – shapeshifter, really. But whatever. It still posed a threat. How would the baby react to the temperature drop? How would I fix my "little furry problem", albeit temporarily, like Sam and Grace did? There had to be a safer and more secure way than Meningitis. There just had to.

All I had to do was find it.

But that posed the biggest problem.

That would require hours, days, and even week's worth of studying. Experiments, tests, test subjects, illegal drugs, legal drugs, combinations of drugs, bio-chemical warfare grade shit, disease testing, diseased subjects for experimentation… basically, I couldn't see any plausible solution of any sort without some sort of massive, government-funded project.

"Someone's up early."

I nearly jumped at the comment. Sam had startled me from my thoughts; rose me from my near-delirium. All with a simple sentence and the clang of a pot as he prepared a fresh pot of coffee. Where Sam was, Grace would follow, and I assumed she was probably in the shower and would be down in a few moments.

"Mornin', Ringo." I jerked my head toward him, keeping cool as always as I sipped my disgusting, somewhat lukewarm coffee.

"Whatsup?" He replied, absent-mindedly filling the water-part of the coffee-pot with, well, water. Duh.

"I'm going to be a dad." I stated, as if he didn't know. He just shot me a look of mild irritation and minor confusion before shrugging it off. That bastard had known for weeks about the spawn I'd accidentally brought about; and he had the nerve to shrug me off.

"Stop thinking. You're going to hurt yourself. Some of the greatest and most successful species have evolved without the need for functioning thought processes; I'm sure you'd be able to benefit from that." He retorted, clicking the buttons on the coffee pot – which responded with obnoxiously pleasant beeps.

"It's almost winter." I licked my lips. I had to say it; maybe Sam had some ideas.

He sighed, a deep and heavy sort of sigh that comes from the very bottom of your lungs and chest and forces its way up your throat and out.

"What if… what if something with my genetics got passed to the kid, 'yanno? With the shapeshifting thing. I can't shapeshift, Sam. I can't afford to – I can't leave Isabel and Cole Jr. alone. Not that I don't trust you and Grace, but… I need to be there for them, right? What if this is my last winter, or whatever, before it's done? Like Beck?"

I couldn't help but to pour it out; once I started I just couldn't stop. So I kept going, and by the end I was pretty proud of myself because I managed to keep my voice steady the entire time.

"We'll find a way, Cole. You and your brainy yet illegal concoctions will find a way to help end your shifting; a safer and easier way than Meningitis. We'll keep testing, hopefully with more legal things, and find a cure. Even if it's just a temporary one – just to buy us enough time to work on a bigger and better cure. There's no way this is your last winter; you're too young. You're not me. Besides, you're being totally unrealistic. Isabel wouldn't ever let you name it after yourself." He snorted at the end, rolling his eyes.

I smiled and offered a half laugh, a sort of short bark.

"But what if I'm a shit father?" I couldn't help but to throw out. Part of me actually worried about this, while another part of me whispered something about knowing when the time came.

"Well, then you'll have your ass kicked by a hormonally imbalanced girlfriend, her best friend with a bit of an animal problem, and some dude with a guitar that doubles as a nice clubbing device." He jabbed at me with a snicker.

I laughed, placing the cup of now relatively cold coffee onto the table, abandoning it alongside the crossed-out scribbles in my legal pad.

"Without a doubt."

-Sam-

It's times like these that restore my faith in Cole, as a person. When he actually gives a shit about people other than himself.

Even though we're around the same age, he always seems younger than me when he lets that façade of… superior-ness fall, and trusts me with his insides. As gross at that sounds.

I smiled at his laughing and began to pour a cup of coffee for myself and Grace, whenever she decided to come down – or, whenever the shower ran out of hot water. Whichever came first.

"Hey, Sam?" I heard Cole call again.

"Yeah?" I half drawled, not really wanting to talk philosophy at – what time was it? 9 in the morning?

"We need better coffee."


End file.
